


Amor Fati

by pyblos



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Fate, Gen, Immortal, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27571927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyblos/pseuds/pyblos
Summary: in which you and akaashi are two pawns in a futile war
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader
Kudos: 16





	Amor Fati

> **_“aut simul stabunt aut simul cadent”_ **

Your first meeting was in the midst of battle, the scent of death heavy as red mist sprayed through the air, the sounds of men fighting and dying all around you. You were two soldiers on opposing sides, powerless pawns destined to die for your countries in a senseless war that had waged for years.

You had entered the army with no hope, only the desperation of keeping your family fed. There was no other way to earn money, not in a war-ravaged country barely surviving the failing economy while the rich hid in their castles built on the bodies of slaves. Your weak arms, arms that had never carried a sword before, now swung it robotically. It was an extension of your body, and you had long numbed yourself from the guilt and horror of taking another’s life. You did what you had to, for your family.

It was the same every day. Fight an already lost battle, get injured, get sent back to recover. Pain wasn’t a foreigner anymore, and you learned to tune out the sharp pain into a dull ache. Until him. You felt the it as the sword sliced through his neck, the death blow sending you reeling as you felt his life gushing out with the blood that leaked from his throat.

Terror and shock filled your veins, jolting you from the numb haze clouding your mind. Your hands scrabbled at your untouched throat, coming away dirty, but still blood-free. How can there be no blood? How can that be when you could feel it trickling out of the phantom gash, filling your lungs with its sticky, thin heat. It just didn’t make sense, how did it, how did it, how did it-

Your eyes met his, and the questions died out as you watched the life leave his eyes. A hollow resignation that faded into a look of nothing, and it burned into you as you choked on  _ his _ blood. That was the first time you died together, in fear, in confusion, in relief.

The darkness seemed endless, and the solidity of the nothingness beneath your feet was disorienting. Every step was so,  _ so heavy _ , and yet so,  _ so light _ . You screamed, you cried as you begged whatever power there was to free you from this silent hell. Didn’t you suffer enough? Hasn't life taken too much from you already? Could they not spare you this small mercy of moving on?

You awoke days, weeks later, screaming as you struggled past the dead bodies piled upon you. This was no mercy, you screamed at the heavens, tears streaking through dirt caked upon your face. The only response that came after was a sharp, biting rainstorm that drenched you to the bone, filling you with a chill that lingered long after the storm had stopped.

It was a miracle, they said. A God-given gift to win the war, they proclaimed as they shoved you back into your suffocating armor, stuck a sword in your hand and tossed you back onto the frontlines. Every cut, every slash, you felt them just as strongly as you did years ago, when you were nothing more than a mere novice on the battlefield. And you embraced it, the only thing grounding you from the unsettling emptiness that lay within you.

And so you swung your sword like a dutiful little soldier, cutting down enemies and stealing their lives from them, tucking the memory of the light draining from their eyes at the back of your mind. Brown eyes, black eyes, green eyes, blue-

Gunmetal blue that stared right back at you, shining brightly beneath the grime upon his face. Those unnerving eyes that stared right past your freezing walls and into the dark crevices of your mind. You never broke your gaze once, not even as your swords clashed and you gained new wounds. Even as he laid the killing strike that sent the both of you to your knees, your hands clutching the sword stuck cleanly into your chest.

“Your name,” you gasped, forcing yourself to stay a little longer, blood spilling from your wounds, painting the ornate handle red.

“Akaashi Keiji,” he choked out, his previously calm eyes now panicked. His hands clutched at his chest, broken nails leaving a frenzied trail of red.

“Th-that’s a be-beautiful name, Akaashi Ke-keiji.” A weak smile rested upon your pained face as the darkness claimed you, his name lingering upon your lips.

The third time you met was surprisingly not amidst battle, but in the neutral ground where both sides had called a ceasefire to recover their dead. You had been lifting the body of your fellow fallen soldier, his face mutilated to the point of unrecognizability when Akaashi snuck up behind you, bending down in the guise of inspecting another fallen body near you.

“I didn’t catch your name the last time,” his voice was low, steady despite the horrors laid around you.

There’s a slight pause as you hesitate. Was it safe to give your name when you now knew neither of you could die? What if he used it against you? A glance at the man crouching down beside you had your name slipping out before you could stop it. It was only fair that he knew yours. After all, you had his name too.

He stood then, grunting slightly as he hefted the body across his shoulders, tilting dangerously close to you. “Why does it keep happening?”

You knew exactly what he was referring to, but you didn’t have the answer to that question. How could you explain why you two would always die together, and come back alive once more, just to repeat the vicious cycle? This was a question no mere mortal had the answer to, and you left him there, with a single word.

“Fate.”

You had begun to lose count of the number of times you had died and come back to life, the vicious cycle becoming a mundane routine to you now. And as you performed yet another deadly dance with Akaashi, you picked up from your last conversation, having been cut short by your deaths.

“So what did you want to be, before you got dragged into this war?” You panted, darting back as his sword swiped through the air, narrowly missing your stomach.

“A writer,” he replied, bringing his shield up to block your attack. There’s a resounding clang as your sword crashes against it, and you grunt as you pull back from him.

“I could see it,” you hummed, before letting out a short gasp of pain as his shield knocks into your face. There would be some ugly bruising later on, you think mournfully. “Leave the face out of this, pretty boy.”

“Sorry,” he jumped to avoid the swing you take at his ankles. “What about you?”

There’s a pause in the conversation even as you continue to parry. You never really thought about your dreams before, and the saddening realization deflates you a little. “I don’t know.” You admitted. “I never had any dreams, and I was raised to be a soldier.” You lunged at him, successfully sticking your blade into a chink in his armor.

Your heart twinged as you watched his face screw up in pain, and you fell to the ground with him. The pain may have been mirrored onto your own body, but the sight of his dying hurt more than any mortal wound ever could.

“See-you-next-time-I-guess,” he wheezed out, a bloodied hand reaching out to caress your face with a gentleness you had not yet seen from him. Smiling sadly, you covered his hand with yours, returning the sentiment and faded back into the darkness, awaiting your next encounter.

Somehow, through all the gore and death that hung between you, you had fallen in love with him, and him with you. The first confession escaped through his dying breaths, and you didn’t get the chance to return it until the next duel with a glittering smile and the agonizing knowledge that you wouldn’t be able to hold him in your arms, nor kiss him. Nor live a normal life with him.

A year of killing and watching each other die had passed, but the ache in your chest only grew every time you watched his figure walk up to yours. Every step he took is heavy, and his shoulders are slumped, weighed down by the impending death.

“Why do we keep doing this?” You cried out, tears streaming down your face as you defended yourself.

  
“Because it’s the only way we’d get to see each other,” came his steady reply, even as his eyes brimmed with tears filled with love and anger and regret. These were tears he’d never let fall, for to do so would mean giving up the tiny shred of hope he had left.

“What if we ran away?” Your voice is filled with desperation, your swings losing their determination.”

Akaashi pressed his lips together tightly, eyes flickering away from yours for a second, almost as if he was considering the possibility. But the words that follow shatter your foolish hope. “They’d only catch us and force us back into this, you know that.”

“But I hate this! I hate having to kill the man I love, over and over again, watching the life drain out of you as we die for a war that will never be won.” It doesn’t matter that the soldiers around you could hear your traitorous proclamations. You’ve been through too much, died too many times to care anymore.

“We don’t have a choice!” He roared back. His hard gaze softened. “I don’t mind dying, for a second with you is worth a thousand deaths.”

With a yell of frustration, you let your guard down and his sword, one that you’ve grown accustomed to over time, ran straight through you.

“See you next time,” you grinned weakly at his horrified face, blood dribbling down your chin.

“You’re an idiot,” he snarled back, wrapping his hand around yours and squeezing tightly. “I’m supposed to take the hits, not you.”

You shook your head at him, and with shaking hands, you yanked him to you, pressing your lips tightly to his. If you were to live a life of death and misery, you deserved to have at least this. This small piece of mercy in a merciless world. 

“I can’t always be the reason why we die.” You whispered against his lips. 

  
“And I can’t bear watching  _ you _ die.”


End file.
